


Illogical Comparisons

by jackotah



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Spock, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Frank Conversation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, New Relationship, POV Kirk, Sex Talk, and for full disclosure, extremely brief/in passing and non descriptive, hand holding, insecure spock, kirk/spock - Freeform, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackotah/pseuds/jackotah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What percentage of your sexual encounters with human males have you found satisfactory?”</p><p>“You mean like, how many made me come?” Jim asked around a mouthful of pasta.</p><p>Spock's brow drew together. “I do not understand the meaning of  'come' in this instance. Please clarify.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illogical Comparisons

Spock's eyes carefully scanned the surrounding area, clearly calculating... something. It could be hard to tell sometimes. It was late in the afternoon, and many crew members had already returned to their posts or continued with the rest of their day. A handful of engineers remained in the far corner, and a young dark haired woman sat nearby, old fashioned buds in her ears providing her with music that she was obviously enjoying. Spock's eyes flicked down and away.

“Captain,” he began after a moment's pause. “I have several questions I wish to ask you. May I proceed?”

“Of course,” Jim replied, spinning his fork around to- somewhat successfully- gather up more of the angel hair pasta he had replicated. He glanced up across the small table and found Spock staring at him in his customary, completely blank way.

“They are of a personal and sexual nature.”

Jim's eyebrows rose slightly, and he looked briefly over his shoulder at the woman nearby. She seemed completely oblivious to their presence. Shrugging a little he turned back to his food. “Okay.”

“You may be assured I have calculated the chance of eavesdropping to be less than 14 percent, but if you do not wish to speak on the subject at this time we may delay the conversation.”

Jim smiled slightly at the figure. Only a Vulcan would think to calculate the odds of someone overhearing a private conversation and come up with a real figure involving actual math. “No one will listen. Shoot.”

Spock cocked his head but did seem to understand the turn of phrase. “In the past have you engaged in sexual encounters with human males?”

Jim nodded as he reached over and took the spoon from beside Spock's plate. “I have." He twirled some pasta against the spoon.

“What percentage of your sexual encounters with human males have you found satisfactory?”

“You mean like, how many made me come?” Jim asked around a mouthful of pasta.

Spock's brow drew together. “I do not understand the meaning of 'come' in this instance. Please clarify.”

Jim swallowed and took up his glass of water. “It's just slang.” With a lowered his voice he added, “It means climax, orgasm, ejaculate, whatever.” He sipped the water, watching Spock's expression change to one of understanding over the top of the glass.

“In that case, yes. I am asking what percentage of those sexual encounters resulted in your achievement of orgasm, as well as... satisfactory personal enjoyment. I have come to understand that most humans prefer to experience positive emotions before, during, and after sexual encounters.”

“Hmm, you don't say.” Jim pursed his lips together, quickly trying to review every time he'd ever had sex, sure he was forgetting some. “Uhh, I'd say 98 percent were enjoyable. Satisfactory, as you said.”

“Interesting. What factors contributed to the two percent you found unsatisfactory?”

Jim dropped his eyes down to the plate again as he pushed the remaining pasta into position, an awkward forced smile at the corner of his mouth. “Let's just say they were... unsolicited on my part.” Their eyes met briefly as Jim glanced up again, and surprisingly he found subtle understanding in Spock's features. Jim shook his head and attempted to wave away the tension his answer had caused. This was certainly not a conversation he would have here. “Please, it's nothing. The rest of your questions."

“Very well,” Spock replied, inclining his head slightly. He pressed only the fingertips of each hand together. “Have you participated in any sexual encounters with non-human males?”

After a moment of thought, Jim shook his head. “Nope. Only non-human females. And one J'naii person. But they wouldn't count either way. Great time though.” 

“I see,” Spock replied, his brow furrowing again. The dark haired woman passed by a moment later, ear buds still in place and her demeanor showing no sign of having overheard. Jim casually watched Spock cut the bread he had replicated, eat a single, precise piece, and then set his fork and knife down again. “What percentage of your sexual satisfaction was derived strictly from the appearance of your partners' genitalia?”

Jim's mouth quivered with the effort of not bursting out into a laugh. “Umm,” he began, failing and letting a small laugh slip. “I'm not sure, Spock. I mean, actually seeing everything gets me going of course, but- I don't know. There's more to getting off than just how things look.”

“You are referring to the emotions humans experience during sexual encounters.”

“Well, yeah,” Jim said, shrugging slightly. “But there's a lot going on at the time. Feelings, like you said. But you're also touching and tasting and listening and whatever, and you're not always focused on what things look like.”

“Fascinating,” Spock mused, seeming truly interested in this development. He paused a moment, as if revising his next question. “Do you have a preference for certain genital structures?”

“Not really. I mean I've slept with more men, but that tells you jack shit about what genitals they have.”

Spock's eyebrow raised slightly. “Indeed. Are there certain genital structures that you have found objectionable or repulsive?”

A frown immediately fell upon Jim's face. “What? No.” He set his fork down, his eyes narrowing. “That would be... sort of awful.”

“Do you take offense at my question, Captain? It is a logical extension of the previous one.”

“No,” Jim answered with a slight shake of his head. His eyes remained on Spock. “I'm just....” He trailed off, his mind sifting through the questions he had been asked. What could Spock possibly gain from this kind of information, some of which was practically common knowledge? They both had lived at the Academy, after all, and word eventually got around. But no, this had taken a different turn. It wasn't the individual questions but their collective implication.

Realization suddenly dawned on him. Jim blinked, cocking his head slightly. “Spock, are you worried that I'll be disappointed or- god forbid- _repulsed_ by your junk?”

Spock did not miss a beat, his face remaining carefully blank. “I will presume by 'junk' you are referring to my genitalia, though I do not see the relevance of deities. Vulcans do not concern themselves with the appearance of their genitalia or those of another. Such comparisons are illogical.”

“Of course,” Jim said, nodding as he pushed his plate forward. He leaned his elbows on the table. “What about Vulcans that are half human? Do _they_ concern themselves with that?”

Spock's expression went suddenly but subtly tense. For a moment his dark eyes held Jim's gaze as if trapped, but then they dropped with feigned interest in the remaining bread on his plate. With slow, steady motions he began cutting the bread into exact quarters.

Jim studied him, wondering how in the universe Spock had gotten this idea into his ridiculously logical head. It had been hard not to notice- on the few occasions now that one of them had the other pressed up against a wall- that whatever situation Spock had going on between his legs wasn't quite the same as his own. He was no expert on Vulcan anatomy- let alone half-Vulcan anatomy- but it didn't matter anyway. Jim had made no indication of any dissatisfaction because he didn't _feel_ dissatisfied in the slightest. 

A few silent moments passed between them as he let Spock compose himself, the faint clinking of metal on ceramic the only sound besides the indistinguishable chatter of the remaining engineers.

“Spock,” Jim said, voice gentle.

“You have my full attention, Captain.” Spock stabbed the final piece of bread with his fork but raised neither his head nor his eyes. He chewed with face downcast.

“Listen,” Jim began. “Whenever you wanna- you know- do that kind of stuff, I'm going to absolutely love everything about you, including whatever set up you've got down there. Size, shape, color, texture, taste- whatever. I'm going to enjoy every bit of it, and I'm going to make sure you enjoy it. Absolutely nothing is going to make me dislike you. I promise. So _please_ don't worry about that, okay?”

“Acknowledged.” 

Jim nodded once, understanding that was probably the best he was going to get, though he still couldn't catch Spock's eyes.

“We should proceed to the Bridge, Captain. We are expected there in six minutes and thirteen seconds.”

Jim gathered his cup and plate and stood. “You know, out of all the strange things about you, the fact that you always know the exact time is one of the weirdest.” Spock continued walking in silence toward the dish receptacle. Jim tapped the taller man's elbow with his own. “You're supposed to say something witty now. I'm rude, you outsmart me and put me in my place, that's how this works.”

Spock looked at him sidelong, then placed his single plate into the compartment and waited as Jim did the same. “I do not wish to be 'witty' at this time, Captain.”

Jim turned to face him, searching his even expression. “Are you angry with me?”

“I am not.”

“Is something that I said bothering you?”

A pause. “No.”

Jim sighed, silently admonishing himself. He reached up and touched the sides of Spock's slightly downcast face, watching Spock's chest rise sharply at the touch and his cheeks tint green. He pressed a small kiss to Spock's brow just below the short, dark line of fringe. “I was trying to save you embarrassment, and I made it worse instead. I'm sorry. I meant what I said though.” Jim kissed his forehead again for emphasis, then lowered his hands. 

“Your apology is unwarranted,” Spock replied, straightening and at last looking Jim in the eyes. “I am the one who is experiencing an emotional disturbance.”

“You could return to your quarters and take the fourth shift instead.”

“I will not. My current emotional state is of no consequence to my performance as your First Officer.”

“Is it of negative consequence to our relationship?”

“No. It is a private failing, and I will resolve it at the appropriate time.”

Jim sighed but gave him a small smile. “Alright then.” He gestured to the door. “After you, Commander.” Spock turned and strode into the hallway, Jim falling in beside him as they made their way to the turbolift. “How long until we are expected?”

“Three minutes fifty two seconds.”

They stepped into the lift in unison and turned back to face the door. “Bridge,” Jim said, unable to resist brushing his fingers against Spock's as the doors closed. His heart leaped as Spock slid his warm, strong hand into his. Jim gave it a firm squeeze, then let it slip away and rubbed his palm against the small of Spock's back through his uniform. The doors slid open, and they stepped into the room. 

“Captain on the Bridge,” Chekov announced.

Jim nodded in his direction, then turned his gaze to the Captain's chair as Spock moved away toward his own. “Status report, Mr. Sulu.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends this now has [a companion piece](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8914858) so it's not lonely.


End file.
